The captain of the stranded steamer had refused to allow his passengers to be taken off when it might have been done without difficulty, and now, aground as she was, much danger was to be apprehended. This could be guarded against only by leaving the surf-boat where she might readily be launched. At the same time the remainder of the coast must be patrolled lest other ships needed assistance, and the crew were forced to perform all their regular duties while remaining on the alert to answer a call from this point.
“Suppose the steamer should whistle for assistance, and at the same time a vessel went ashore the other side of the station?” Benny asked. “How could one crew attend to both?”
“It would be the keeper’s duty to decide which craft was in the greatest danger, or, if both were in much the same position, where the largest number of lives might be saved, and then one or the other would be left to her fate. There’s where the responsibility of the keeper comes in, my son, and a heavy one it is like to be under certain circumstances.”
The surf-boat had been hauled up beyond reach of the tide when it should rise, and all the men ordered out on patrol.
There was no time to be spent in eating supper, for the most dreaded of all dangers upon the Eastern coast had suddenly presented itself, and the life-saving crew must labor to the utmost extent of their powers without thought or heed of self until, perchance, exhaustion should overcome them.
Sam and Benny were left alone, and a long, dreary vigil did they keep, although the surfman tried to enliven it for the lad by telling stories, or explaining again and again the duties of each member of the crew under supposititious circumstances.
The fog hung low and dense until nearly midnight, when the wind had so increased in force that it was “blown away,” to use Sam Hardy’s expression, and the steamer revealed to view.
That the surf had been rising all this time the watchers on shore knew full well by the roaring and pounding of the waves upon the rocks, but yet even Sam Hardy, experienced in such matters as he was, betrayed surprise when the lifting of the fog revealed the situation of the stranded steamer.
At the time she was first discovered the vessel lay motionless as if at anchor in a quiet haven; now the heavy swell, dashing over the shoal, was so high that at times it seemed as if the steamer’s decks must be flooded, and Sam Hardy cried anxiously and impatiently:
“Why don’t that pig-headed captain signal for assistance? I’ve seen a craft more staunch than she knocked to pieces by the surf when there wasn’t half a gale of wind, an’ now we’re likely to have before mornin’ all the breeze that a water-borne craft can stagger under, to say nothin’ of one that’s aground.”